


The Pain of Loss

by thatwriterlady



Series: 30 Day Writing Challenge 2016 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12 year old Dean is trying to cope with his loss, 13 year old Castiel is trying to cope with his own loss, 30 Day Writing Challenge 2016, Bonding, Consoling one another, Family, Friendship, He's a fantastic dad in this, Love, Loving John Winchester, M/M, Original Character Death(s), heart ache, loss of a loved one, positivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: Dean gets the worst news of his entire life, and it changes everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so there is NO ANGST BETWEEN DEAN AND CAS. NONE AT ALL. That being said, grab your box of tissues, because you will need it! I was teary eyed as I wrote this. It's tender but your hear is going to break. Consider yourselves warned. I do hope you like the story. Enjoy!

**_Day 7: A Death of Someone Close_ **

Dean remembered.  He didn’t want to remember, but he did.  It would forever be the worse day of his life.  Nothing he could think of would ever be able to top it, and frankly, he didn’t want anything to top it. 

 

He was 12, sitting in history class and working on the questions at the end of a chapter on the Revolutionary War and wondering what his mom was going to be making for dinner that night when the Assistant Principal, Mrs. Mosely came to the door.  He didn’t pay her any attention, so focused was he on getting his questions answered.  The test was Monday and he wanted to pass it, make his dad proud and maybe get a chance to work under the hood of the Impala with him like he’d been promising.  At first he didn’t hear his name being called.  When someone touched his shoulder he looked up to see Mrs. Mosely standing there.

 

“Dean, honey, I need you to pack your things up and come with me.”

 

Dean frowned as he closed his book.  Normally they called students to the office.  If she was coming to get him personally, something was wrong.  His teacher, Mr. Sorensen was standing next to Mrs. Mosely and something on his face set off alarm bells in Dean’s head.

 

“I finished, Mr. S.  Can I turn it in now?”  He asked.  The teacher’s smile was sad as he accepted Dean’s assignment.

 

“Of course.”

 

Dean grabbed his book and notebook and stood up.  Mrs. Mosely’s hand fell on his shoulder as they walked out of the classroom, and that just made him even more anxious.

 

“Did something happen?”  He asked as she directed him towards his locker.

 

“Your grandfather is waiting for you in the office, darlin.  He’s taking you home.”  She replied. Dean frowned.  His grandfather never came to get him.  Something was seriously wrong.  He tried not to panic as he slipped his coat on and shoved his books into his backpack.  Did his dad get hurt at work again?  Was something wrong with Sammy?

 

“Is my brother ok?”

 

“Your brother is fine, honey.  Come on.”  She directed him back to her office where he spotted his grandfather sitting in one of the chairs.  He looked so sad and lost and that just frightened Dean further.

 

“Grandpa?”  He asked as he hurried over to the man.  Samuel Campbell looked up but his smile was tired and filled with pain.  “What’s wrong?”  Dean begged.

 

“We’re going on a little drive, buddy.  Gotta go pick up Sammy.”  His grandfather squeezed his shoulder before standing up.

 

Dean fell silent even though his heart was racing, and after he’d been signed out, his grandfather led him out of the building and to his car.  The drive to Sammy’s school was short as it was only a few blocks away and he knew he wasn’t going to get the answers he needed until they had his brother too.  He knew the rules.  Don’t demand, and don’t ask questions.  Answers would be given when the adults were ready to give them.  He followed his grandfather into the elementary school and took a seat on the bench in the hall at his grandfather’s instructions.  Samuel went into the office to speak to the secretary and Dean couldn’t hear the conversation through the closed door.  He was a good boy, he listened, he followed orders, and he’d been told to sit tight, so that was what he was doing.  A few minutes later an aide, a woman with long blonde hair twisted into a fancy bun atop her head was coming down the hall with his little brother.  Sam already had his coat and backpack.  When he spotted Dean he let go of the woman’s hand and hurried over.  Sliding onto the seat next to his big brother, he gave a big, gaping smile since he had a bunch of recently lost teeth.

 

“Hey ya, Dean.  We’re going home?”

 

Dean waited until the aide had gone into the office before turning to look at his little brother.

 

“Something happened, and it has to be bad cause grandpa never comes to get us at school.  He won’t tell me what happened either.”

 

Sam’s smile fell away and he looked at his brother with large, frightened eyes.

 

“Mommy…”

 

“Don’t!  Don’t you say nothing bad about mom!”  Dean’s voice cracked and his eyes filled with tears.  That was his worst fear and hearing his brother voicing it was scaring the hell out of him.  Sam looked through the glass to where their grandfather was at the desk signing something. 

 

“Dean, I’m scared.”  Sam scooted closer and Dean instinctively put an arm around the little boy’s shoulders.

 

“Me too, Sammy.  Me too.”

 

Samuel came out a few seconds later, his expression looking even more pained than before at seeing his grandsons huddled together like that.

 

“Come on, boys.”  He started walking and they slowly slid off the bench to follow.  Sam grabbed onto his brother’s hand and Dean clung to it as they followed their grandfather back out to the car. 

 

Dean’s sense of dread grew deeper once they were in the car and driving.  He expected them to head to the house but instead they pulled into a McDonald’s.  He was losing his patience but his fear of punishment was so strong that even as his grandfather led them inside, he kept his mouth shut.  His fears grew when he saw his Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bobby sitting at a table, both looking solemnly out the far window.

 

“Uncle Bobby?”  Sam let go of Dean’s hand and hurried over to his aunt and uncle.  The man turned at the sound of the little boy’s voice and offered a small smile.

 

“Hey, son.  Come here.”  Bobby scooped Sam up and sat him in his lap.  Dean made his way over to the table.

 

“Please, just tell me what happened.”  He was trying to stay strong, he really was, but he was so scared that his entire body trembled.  Ellen patted the seat next to him and he sat down.  It was soothing to have her fingers run through his hair, just like his mom liked to do.  He looked around but his grandfather was up at the counter ordering.

 

“Boys, something happened today.”  Bobby said.  Ellen pressed her lips together and slid her arm around Dean’s shoulders.

 

“What happened?”  Sam asked.  Bobby was shaking, Dean could see it.  Even more frightened now, he leaned in closer to his aunt.

 

“Your ma, she, uh, she fell down a few weeks ago.  You boys know that, right?  She fell down the basement stairs?” 

 

Dean and Sam both nodded.

 

“Dad took her to the hospital.  They said she was ok to come home though.”  Dean said.

 

“Well, she wasn’t.  When she fell, she got all of those really bad bruises.  Remember you boys were helping more around the house because she was hurting so bad?”  Ellen asked. 

 

“Please, what happened to her?  I can’t take this anymore!”  Dean cried.  He wanted to be strong, for Sam, for his dad, but he was _just so scared_!

 

“Your ma got what’s called an embolism.  Those bruises she got, a bit of the blood, it sort of…got thick and gooey.  Kinda like a scab, but not quite.  It moved inside her and she didn’t realize it.  Today, it moved into her lung.  Lungs and brains are dangerous places for blood clots.”  Bobby’s voice was wavering now and he was having trouble talking but Dean understood what his uncle couldn’t say.  A high pitched keening noise escaped his mouth, the kind he’d never heard come out of himself before he burst into tears.  He buried his face against his aunt’s chest and she quickly wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

 

“What happened to mommy?”  Sam was crying, and Bobby was trying to explain through his own tears.

 

Mary Winchester was dead.

 

This was the worst day of Dean’s entire life.

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

Their grandfather bought them food but neither boy would eat it.  They went home with their aunt and uncle even though all Dean wanted was his father.  Well, truthfully he wanted his mom, but every time he pictured her face, or remembered how wonderful she smelled when he would hug her, like apple pie and cinnamon, he’d burst into tears again. 

 

At some point he and his brother were led up to the spare bedroom they usually stayed in when they visited, and they curled up together in the bottom bunk.  Dean made it his mission to block out his own pain and focus on taking care of his brother.  Sam needed him.  He woke some time during the night when someone sat down on the edge of the bed.  Dean opened his eyes to see his father sitting there.

 

“Dad!”  He cried as he threw himself into his father’s arms.

 

“Hey, sweetheart.”  John said softly, using his wife’s preferred term of endearment as he pulled Dean into his lap.  Sam woke up crying and forced his way into his father’s arms too.  He tried to console his children but ended up crying with them.  Their entire world was shattered, and nothing was going to put it back whole again.

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

The next few days were a blur.  Dean focused on his brother mostly since Sam had suddenly stopped talking and wouldn’t leave his side.  They remained with their aunt and uncle, though John stopped by in the evenings, usually after the boys were asleep.  It didn’t stop him from crawling into the bed and holding them though. 

 

The day of the wake was rough.  John got into an argument with Ellen over whether the boys should be allowed to attend.  Ellen felt it would be too traumatic for them while John said they needed closure.  In the end Dean was allowed to go since he was older, but Sam stayed at the Singer house with their cousin Jo who was only 5, and a babysitter.  Ellen took Dean to get fitted for a suit the day before and on the day of the wake, he put it on.  Bobby fixed his tie while Ellen fussed over his hair.  He was too numb to care.  He let them lead him out to the car and then they were on their way to the funeral home.

 

Dean had never seen the inside of a funeral home before and it reminded him of an old person’s living room, like his great aunt Jean, with the vases full of flowers in the lobby and the upholstered furniture with the flowery designs.  People floated in and out of several rooms and he stopped to peek in the doorway of the first room.  He didn’t recognize anyone.  His eyes widened when he saw the casket at the back of the room, and the person inside of it.

 

“That’s not ours.”  Ellen said as she gently steered him towards another room.

 

“Someone else died too?”  He asked.

 

“Honey, people die every day.  That family is mourning for their lost loved one too.”  She explained as she led him into the second open doorway.  Here he recognized people.  Family and friends stood in small groups.  Some were talking, some were crying softly.  A few were crying somewhat loudly.  Near the back of the room he spotted his dad.  Pulling away from his aunt, he weaved quickly through the people until he was at his father’s side.

 

“Dad!”

 

“Shhh, son.  We’re quiet in here.”  John ran his fingers through his eldest son’s head and sighed.  “We show respect for the dead by speaking quietly.”

 

Dean wrapped his arms around his father’s waist and nodded.

 

“Ok, I’ll be quiet.”  He promised, careful to speak quietly. 

 

People came and went, giving their condolences, some acknowledging Dean, some not even seeming to realize he was there.  John spoke to everyone that stopped to talk to him.  Dean stayed close to his dad, feeling safe and secure with one arm draped around his shoulders. 

 

He glanced back several times at the champagne colored casket at the back of the room.  People stood around it, blocking his view but he knew what it held.  Curiosity eventually got the best of him and he pulled away from his father, gravitating towards the casket and the woman within.  People stepped aside as he walked by.  Some voiced their concerns, others simply made soft noises of surprise to see him there.  Slowly he made his way to the front, where he had a clear view.  A hand on his shoulder pulled his attention away from his mother and he looked up to see his Uncle Bobby standing there.

 

“Do you know what to do, son?”

 

Dean shook his head.  “Not really.  Aunt Ellen says we gotta pray.”

 

Bobby nodded.  “Come with me, I’ll show you what to do.”

 

There were 2 ladies kneeling on a long pad in front of the casket, heads bowed and when they stood up, Bobby motioned for him to kneel down beside him.

 

“Now what you do is you bow your head, you close your eyes, and you ask God to watch over your ma, to take care of her and keep her safe until you’re reunited with her again in heaven.  He hears your prayers.  You can pray for the rest of your family too.  I think we all need it now.” 

 

Dean waited until his uncle had bowed his head and closed his eyes before he looked up at his mother.  She was beautiful, even in death and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was simply sleeping.  His aunt had told him that the funeral home had done their very best to make sure she looked beautiful.  He sniffled and reached out to touch the hands that were folded across her stomach.  She was cold, her skin hard and lifeless.  He jerked his hand away and burst into tears.  Bobby’s head snapped up and seeing his nephew like that spurred him into action.  He pulled Dean into his arms and let the boy cling to him as he broke down.  John came and pried his son out of his step brother’s arms and carried him out of the room.

 

“Shh, sweetheart.  I know.  It’s so hard.”  John’s voice was thick as he sat down on one of the couches in the hall and cradled his son in his arms.  Dean wasn’t a small child but he folded himself up in his father’s arms and cried until his tears had run out, and then he cried some more.

 

“Dad, I-I miss her.  I want my mom!”  He wailed.  John hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head.

 

“I know, son.  I miss her too, so much.  It ain’t gonna be easy, but your mom, she’s looking down on us from heaven.  I just know it.  She’d want you to be happy.  She loves you still, and she always will.  I love you, and I love Sammy.”  John was having trouble talking through his own tears, but he was doing his best.  Eventually Dean fell asleep, cradled in his father’s arms.  When he awoke some time later, his father was gone but there was a jacket tucked around him.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes.  People were still coming and going from his mother’s wake, and he watched them, the numbness having returned again.  He didn’t want to be in that room though.  He didn’t want that to be how he remembered his mother.  Looking around he saw people still coming and going from the other wake too.  When he turned to his left he noticed the couch on the other side of the long table was occupied.  A boy around his age was sitting on it, staring blankly at the wall.

 

“Are you here for that wake?”  Dean asked, careful not to speak too loudly.  The other boy blinked and looked in his direction.

 

“Yes, I am.  I’m guessing you’re here for the other one.”

 

Dean’s shoulders slumped and he nodded.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

The other boy stared quietly at him for a moment before getting up and walking over to sit down next to Dean.

 

“My name is Castiel.  What’s yours?”

 

“I’m Dean.  Can I ask you who died?  Was it someone you knew?”  Dean asked.  There was a pained expression on the other boy’s face as he nodded.

 

“Yes, my sister, Anna.  She was in a car accident.”

 

Dean felt bad for him.  He knew how much it hurt losing someone you loved.

 

“My mom died.”  He said softly.  Castiel somehow managed, in spite of his own grief, to look remorseful.

 

“Dean…I’m so sorry.”

 

Dean swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.  “I miss her so much.”

 

Castiel found his hand and squeezed it.  “I know, I lost my mom last year.”

 

There was a new pain in Dean’s chest as he looked at Castiel.

 

“You lost your mom too?  H-how do you do it?  Without her?”

 

Castiel gave a small shrug.  “I don’t really know.  One day it hurts so bad you think your heart is going to just break into a million pieces, and then slowly it starts to hurt just a little less.  You don’t forget though.  All of the good stuff, it’s still there, and that’s what you remember.  Like how my mom used to play tag with us in the yard and she’d chase me around until she caught me.  Then she’d swing me around before setting me back down.  She always kissed my cheek though, before she’d let me go.  Or how she’d tuck me in at night and tell me stories.  I remember her letting me stay up the night my oldest sister Naomi had her first baby, so I could find out if I had a new niece or nephew, and taking me shopping for new Halloween costumes.  I hang on to the good stuff.  What good memories do you have about your mom?”

 

Dean ventured a small smile as he thought about his own mother.  His memories were much more recent, but it still hurt to think about her.  He focused on the good ones.

 

“She made the best pies.  If I asked for one, she’d make it.  Especially apple, it’s my favorite.  And her hair, it was so pretty and blonde.  And soft too.  It would tickle my face when I’d hug her.  She had the prettiest smile too.  My dad says I look like her.  I want to always look like her, so I never forget.”

 

“What else?”  Castiel asked.

 

“She could sing so pretty.  When I was little and I’d get scared, she’d sing “Hey Jude” to me at bedtime, and I’d fall right to sleep.  I remember when she had my little brother.  I was only 4 but she let me climb up into the bed at the hospital and hold him.  She’d kiss my cuts and bruises, and she always told me angels were watching over me.”  Dean’s throat constricted as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.  He looked over at Castiel who was watching him.  “Do you think she’s an angel now?”

 

“I do.  Cause my mom is too.  She said she’d always watch over me and protect me.”

 

Dean fell silent, thoughtful as he imagined his mother in heaven.  How beautiful she would be with wings! 

 

“How did your mom die?”  He asked a few minutes later.

 

“Brain tumor.  She was sick for a year and then one night she went to sleep.  She didn’t wake up.”  Castiel’s voice was small and so sad.  Dean didn’t know this boy, but he felt his pain as though it were his own.  In a way, he was.  He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Castiel’s shoulders.

 

“My mom had a bad fall last week.  She got a blood clot.  My dad says it moved in her blood and got into her lung.  My Uncle Bobby said the same thing.  They said it’s real bad when that happens.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Dean.”  Castiel found his free hand and held it between his own.  “I’m so, so sorry.”

 

“Me too.  About your mom and your sister.  Can I ask what happened to your sister?”  Dean asked.

 

“She went to a party and the person driving her home was supposed to stay sober, but she didn’t, and they were all on their phones.  The driver didn’t stop at a red light and a truck hit them.  There were 4 people in the car.  Everyone except my sister’s friend Lourdes died.  And she’s in critical condition in the hospital.  My dad says that means she might not make it either.”  Castiel shuddered and Dean hugged him a little tighter. 

 

“I’m sorry, Cas.  I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my brother.”

 

“I don’t know what to do either.  I miss Anna.  She wasn’t just my sister, she was my friend.”  Tears were spilling down Castiel’s cheeks and Dean reached over to the table where there was a box of tissues.  He grabbed one and handed it to the other boy.

 

“Thank you.”  Castiel said as he blew his nose.  He sagged back against the couch and Dean did the same.  He had dropped his arm from around Castiel’s shoulder but they continued to sit close so their arms were pressed against one another’s.

 

“How old are you?”  Dean asked.  Castiel was shorter than him, he could tell, but he didn’t necessarily look younger.

 

“I’m 13.”

 

“I’m 12.”  Dean said.  Castiel sniffled and wiped at his nose again.

 

“I hate funeral homes.  They’re full of sadness.”  He said.  Dean looked around.  Everyone talking so quietly, dressed in black, it lent a very somber feel to the place. 

 

“You’re right.  I just want this to be over with, but then I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s all over.”  He felt so incredibly lost.

 

“I know.  I am not looking forward to the funeral.  My mom’s was hard.  I don’t know if I can sit through my sister’s.”  Castiel’s lower lip quivered as he struggled not to break down again.  “I miss her.”  He whispered.

 

“So tell me something good about her.  What are your good memories?”  Dean asked.  He wanted to do for Castiel what had been done for him.  The other boy looked at him, his blue eyes so serious as he studied Dean’s face.

 

“She had freckles, like yours, but not as many.  Her hair was so pretty.  The only red head in our family, save for my grandmother.  Her laughter was so nice.  If she started laughing, it made you want to laugh along too.  And she was so smart.  She was 17 and got a scholarship to Purdue.  Veterinary medicine was what she wanted to go into.  She was going to save so many animal lives, and I was going to do that too.  I told her, I’d become a vet too and she said if I did, we could start our own animal hospital.  I wanted that so much.”

 

He was close to crying again, but remembering the good parts, it helped a little.  Dean’s stomach rumbled.

 

“I’m hungry, are you?”  He asked.  Castiel nodded.

 

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s almost dinner time.”

 

Dean spotted his aunt walking by and flagged her down.

 

“Aunt Ellen, is there food here?  I’m hungry.”

 

“Of course, darlin.  It’s downstairs.  Right down those stairs over there.  Go get a drink and something to eat.”  She told him.  Dean turned to Castiel.

 

“Come get something with me?”

 

“I don’t want to impose, those aren’t meant for my family.”  The other boy protested.

 

“It’s meant for my family, and you’re my guest, so I say it’s ok.  Come on.”  Dean stood up and Castiel did too.  They headed for the stairs.

 

People were coming and going as they made their way down to the kitchen and Dean tried to ignore the condolences people kept muttering to him.  He just didn’t know what he should say.  That was his dad’s territory.  He just wanted a glass of water and maybe some crackers, and to be left alone.  People were standing around and conversations faded away as Dean made his way to the table in the center of the room where the food was and ignored the looks he was receiving, every one of them dripping with sympathy that made it painful to look any of them in the eye.  Instead he focused on filling a small paper plate with fruit, crackers, cheese, and cookies.  He nudged Castiel and handed him a plate. 

 

With their plates filled they both grabbed cups of sweet tea and moved into an adjacent room that had tables and chairs.  It was empty and Dean made sure to close the door so they were alone.  Castiel was already sitting at a table picking at the food on his plate and Dean went and sat down beside him.

 

“When do you have to go back to school?”  Castiel asked.  Dean had forgotten all about school.

 

“I-I don’t know.  My dad hasn’t brought it up.  I don’t think my brother’s going to be able to go back for a while.  He stopped talking.”

 

“I don’t know when I’ll go back.  I couldn’t concentrate.  It took a month after my mom died before I could go back.”  Castiel picked up a grape and put it in his mouth. 

 

“I don’t want to think about school.  I don’t want to think about anything. Thinking hurts.”  Dean shoved a cracker with cheese in his mouth to avoid saying more.  What he wanted was to go to sleep and wake up to find that this had all just been one, terrible nightmare.  Castiel murmured his assent and they ate the rest of their food in silence.  As they took their empty plates and cups back into the kitchen, a young man looking very much like Castiel came down the stairs.  He looked distraught, until his eyes landed on them.

“Cassie!”  He exclaimed.  Castiel frowned.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“What are you doing down here?  This isn’t for our family.  Come on.”  The man grabbed Castiel by the shoulder and tried to steer him towards the stairs but Castiel jerked out of his grip.  Dean stepped in, coming between the two of them.

 

“He’s here with me, I invited him down here.”  He said.

 

“Well that’s not your place to do, kid.  Castiel was supposed to stay upstairs.” 

 

“It _is_ my place to invite him, it’s my mom that died.”  Dean felt the tears again and his voice caught, even though he was struggling not to cry.  The man’s expression softened and he nodded.  He shared a knowing look with his brother.

 

“I understand.  I’ll let dad know.”  The man placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed.  “I can’t possibly tell you how sorry I am that this has happened to you.  I’m sure my brother has told you we lost our own mom not all that long ago.  I know there are no words in the world that will make the pain go away, but there are people that understand.” 

 

With that the man turned and left, heading back up the way he had come.

 

“That’s my brother Michael.”  Castiel said softly.  “He’s my oldest brother.”

 

“You have a lot of brothers?”  Dean asked as they started up the stairs.

 

“Yes.  There are 5 boys and 2 girls.”  Castiel winced.  “One…girl.”

 

Dean placed a hand on the boy’s back and rubbed gently, like his own dad did with him.

 

“It’s so hard.  And saying sorry doesn’t bring her back.  If you want to call me up some time and talk, about your sister or about our moms, it would be ok.  I think I feel better talking to someone that knows what it feels like.  It’s not the same when everyone still has their mom.”

 

They reached the couch they had been sitting on before and sat down once more.  Ellen reappeared.  She eyed Castiel for a moment before turning again to Dean.

 

“Honey, would you like to try praying again for your mom?”

 

“I-I can’t.  I mean, I can pray, but I’d rather do it from here.  I can’t see her like that.”  His voice was small, almost a whisper, and Castiel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

 

“I’ll pray here with you, ok?”

 

Dean sniffled and nodded.  The terrible ache in his chest was never, ever going to go away, but if praying would help his mom find her way to heaven, then he would pray every single day for the rest of his life.

 

“What’s your name, son?  I don’t think I’ve met you before.”  Ellen said to Castiel.

 

“Ma’am, my sister just passed away, but I lost my mom last year.  I know what Dean is going through and how much it hurts.”  He replied.  She gave a tiny gasp before biting her lower lip and nodding.

 

“I’m so very sorry, sweetheart.  And you’re right.  I think you could both use a friend right now.”  She let them be and returned to the parlor, no doubt to let Dean’s dad know where he was, and how he was doing.

 

“Are you ready now?”  Castiel asked him.

 

“Why do people even pray?  Does God really hear them?  We never went to church or anything, but my mom always said angels were watching over us, and I know she prayed.  I heard her doing it.  If God loves us and wants the best for us, why did he take my mom?  I need her!  I want my mom back!”

 

Dean broke down again.  It felt like he’d never stop feeling this pain deep in his very bones.  Castiel pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him.

 

“I asked that too.  No one had a good answer for me though, til I went to speak to one of the priests at our church.  He told me that sometimes, God puts special people here on earth, so that they can do wonderful things, but those people are needed back in heaven sooner than others, and so they get called back home.  I know my mom was special.  She was the most amazing and wonderful person I’ve ever known, and my sister Anna was like that too.  She once gave a homeless woman with a small child her coat right off her back and then took the lady into a store to buy the little girl with her a coat.  I was with her that day.  People like that…”  There was a faint smile on the boy’s face as he thought about his sister and mother.  “They’re very special.  I think your mom is one of the special people too.”

 

Dean found comfort in the other boy’s words.  His mom had been the most wonderful person he’d ever known, and if anyone was needed by God, it was her.

 

“Yeah, my mom was great.  The best mom ever, but she was really good too.  Maybe you’re right.”  He looked over at Castiel, looking straight into the blue eyes watching him.  “Do you think I’ll get to see her again?”

 

“Yes, we’ll both get to see our moms again, and other people that pass before us.  I know I’ll be with my mom one day, and my sister.  But I also know they want me to follow my dreams.  They’re watching, I can feel it.”  Castiel replied.

 

“So, you still gonna be a vet?”  Dean asked.  Castiel nodded.

 

“I want to, because I like animals and science, but I also want to do it for Anna.”

 

Dean settled back against the couch and Castiel did the same.

 

“Where do we go from here though?  Does the pain ever really stop?”

 

“It does.  Happy stuff starts to fill your heart up again and the pain gets a little easier to bear.  It still hurts, losing my mom, but I’m not crushed by it anymore.  I remember all the good stuff, and I try to do things I know would make her proud.  I’ll always do that if I can.  She’s my angel now.  Just like your mom is yours.”

 

Dean was still contemplating Castiel’s words when he dozed off again.  He ended up leaning against the boy’s shoulder, finding a comfort in this stranger turned friend that he wasn’t finding with his own family.  When someone shook him lightly a while later his eyes fluttered open to find his dad kneeling down in front of him.

 

“Hey, kiddo.  Castiel has to go home now.  I know you want to say goodbye.”  John told him.  Dean sat up and rubbed at his eyes.  He looked at Castiel who was holding out a piece of paper to him.

 

“This is my phone number.  Your dad gave me yours.  My dad says it’s ok if we get together in a few weeks.  But he also thinks maybe it’s a good idea if you come to my counseling group with me this Friday.  It’s for kids that have lost family members.  Parents, siblings, grandparents.  I’ll sit with you, and we can talk some more there.  Ok?”

 

Dean looked at his own father who nodded.

 

“I think that would be a good idea, for you and for Sammy.  But he’s a little young, so we’re going to do something a little different for him.”

 

Dean turned back to Castiel and took the piece of paper.

 

“Ok.  I want to go.  Thanks, Cas.  I’m still sorry about your mom and your sister, but thank you, for you know, listening and stuff.”

 

Castiel smiled as he got up from the couch. 

 

“I’ll see you Friday, Dean.  And call me any time.”

 

Dean watched the boy with the messy dark hair and the backwards tie leave with Michael and several other people.  He had the feeling that Castiel was going to be someone important in his life, and that the other boy would change it for the better.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Day 8 Prompt:** Sleeping In
> 
> I do hope you liked this story. Kudos and comments are always welcome and very much appreciated. I hope I didn't make you all go through an entire box of tissues with this one. I just knew I couldn't put you or me through the death of Cas or Dean, so I opted for a different route. On to the next one...
> 
> Also, I want to wish an extra special Happy Birthday to 4Jackles. Today is her birthday. Happy Birthday, sweetheart!


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